


A Magic of His Own

by winninghearts



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 03:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winninghearts/pseuds/winninghearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before moving to Leadworth, Rory Williams had not spent much time around Muggle children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Magic of His Own

In the spring of 1996, Eulalia Williams moved to Leadworth with her eight year-old son Rory. There were a multitude of reasons for this. She had, of course, been reading the papers, and even if they dismissed the claims young Mr. Potter made as nonsense, it still made her uneasy to live with such a high concentration of people like herself. It just felt an easier target if something was going to happen. She remembered the first war in a fuzzy, childlike way; her first year at school had been during the height of it. It didn't feel like something that could happen again, though, not really. 

She had also been recently left by her husband. Eulalia hated the pitying looks she got from others in the village, because they all knew her and they all knew Glen and they all knew each horrible detail of what happened. The pain was still strong and the house was too full of memories. 

The main reason, though, was the teasing. Rory had been endlessly teased by most of the other children in the village for at least the last two years. He was small for his age, yes, but the main target of their taunts was much more personal. It left him crying in his room too many times a day. She would hear him try to suck it up when her footsteps in the hall alerted him to her presence, but it broke Eulalia's heart. She even heard the adults in the village talk about him when they thought she wasn't listening, bandying the label around in hushed, pitying voices. 

_Squib._

It wasn't that Eulalia herself had never entertained the thought. In his eight years, Rory had never demonstrated even the slightest sign of magical ability. No silly, childhood accidental Transfiguring or floating cookies or crayon drawings that jumped and moved. He was terribly incompetent on a broom; Eulalia had once had to rescue him from a tree that he had crashed into, much to the cruel amusement of all the other neighborhood boys. 

She didn't like thinking about these things, though, because they didn't _matter_. Rory was kind and sweet and recited poems to her while they prepared dinner together. He was caring and nurturing; he loved to tag along with her to work at St. Mungo's and talk to the long-term patients, tell them stories. It brought smiles to their faces. So why was it so important that he just might lack the ability to do magic?

It wasn't even for sure, really. He could just be a late bloomer. It happened all the time. They moved to Leadworth, though, where Eulalia did not know a single witch or wizard, in hopes that Rory could make friends who would appreciate him for these other qualities.

~

Rory was usually easygoing, but he about hit the roof the night his mother told him that she had enrolled him in the local Muggle school. It had been over dinner, roast sandwiches made from leftovers from the night before. “I just think it would be fun,” she said, smiling encouragingly and pouring him another glass of fizzy raspberry drink. “It will help you meet other kids in the village.”

“Liar.” Rory didn't even bother to say it under his breath as he normally would. He knew that his mother was lying; she was smiling far too much to be telling the truth. He knew what the others had always said about him, but his mother had always kissed his hair and told him that they didn't know what they were talking about. Plenty of people took time to develop their abilities. And he had believed her. Her wanting to put him in a Muggle school, though, that changed things. Rory wasn't stupid. 

His mum thought he was a Squib, too.

“Rory Dennis Williams-” His mother started to scold him, but he was really in no mood for it. He pushed his sandwich away. Beginning to feel tears form in his eyes and not wanting to cry in front of her, Rory hopped away from the table and ran out the kitchen door, into the garden and through the gate. He heard her calling after him, but didn't care. Soon he was far enough down the road that he couldn't hear her anymore, and he slowed his run to a walking pace.

The sun was just setting and with it was Leadworth, everyone already packed inside. All the homes down the street were fairly boring, neat, little cottages. No brightly-colored smoke from potion brewing coming from within, no whizzing around of brooms for a little early evening Quidditch match. He sort of liked it, actually, the quiet of it. 

The house at the farthest end of the road, however, was more interesting. It was large and old and had a sprawling garden with all sorts of overgrown plants, closing it off to the rest of the neighborhood. No lights were on inside the house, so Rory assumed the the residents were either out or ninety years old and in bed before seven in the evening. He walked softly down the path, crossing under an arch and toward a half-built shed. 

“What are you doing in my garden?” a clear, Scottish voice asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

Rory turned his head just in time to see the red-headed girl poke her head out of a cardboard box nestled in a patch of overgrown grass next to the shed. The box was painted blue and the girl was dressed in a oversized men's shirt and a poorly-knotted necktie. She didn't look angry to see him, in fact, within moments her freckled nose was scrunching up and a smile was spreading over her face. She leapt from the box and came toward him.

“I'm sorry,” Rory mumbled. “I just moved here, and I was just looking-”

The girl waved her hand around in his face, shaking her head around with it. “No, you're fine!” she said happily. “In fact, you are just what I need! I was having a hard time figuring out how I was going to play The Raggedy Doctor and myself, but now that you are here, you can be the Doctor!” She looked toward a swing set, where a rather ugly stuffed octopus swayed back and forth. “He can still be Prisoner Zero.”

Rory had absolutely no idea what any of the words coming out of her mouth meant. Maybe it was a Muggle thing? He hadn't spent enough time around non-magical children to know. “What's Prisoner Zero?”

“He's the alien who lives in my wall, but not in my wall,” she said, and with this, Rory knew that this girl was absolutely mad. Aliens? What a ridiculous thing to believe in. Still, she was offering to play with him, possibly be his friend, and she also had one of the loveliest smiles that Rory had ever seen. She began to tug at the tie she wore, pulling it over her copper hair, then looping it around Rory's neck. “I'm Amelia Pond, by the way.”

“And who is the Doctor?” Rory asked, watching her unbutton the shirt the reveal a bright yellow jumper beneath. Amelia smiled as she handed it to him, running over to the box to show off her handiwork.

“The Doctor is my friend,” she said. “And this is his time machine! He was going to take me with him, and we were going to see everything, the times in the past when there were princesses and knights and the times in the future where we'll ride in all kinds of flying cars.” Amelia climbed into her box, gripping the brown cardboard of the flaps. “He got stuck, though, fighting all of the giant eyeball monsters, because they were mad he could find Prisoner Zero when they couldn't. He tried to cut them all up with his super laser sword, but there were too many. So they're trying to keep him from getting back here so they don't look bad to their boss.” Amelia sat down in the box. “He'll get out and come back for me soon, though. He promised.”

Rory fingered the edges of the shirt he was putting on. “Have you burned bits of this?”

“Yes!” Amelia jumped up, grinning at Rory. She ran to tuck in his shirt slightly, the touch making Rory almost jump out of his shoes. “It's for accuracy. We should also probably wet your hair...” She grabbed ahold of Rory's sleeves, and before he knew it, he was being dragged to the tap on the side of the house.

  


_Three Years Later_  


Rory ran down the road, so happy he was almost tripping over himself. It was hot, and he kicked up bits of dried-out dirt as he made his way up the path to Amy's door. All summer he had been a complete mess, nervous, and he had never been able to explain completely why to his friend. Now the anxiety was over, and he couldn't wait to let her know. Coming to a stumbling halt at her front door, Rory knocked five times in quick succession.

He heard the loud banging off footsteps down the stairs, but it wasn't Amy that opened the door. It was Mels, and she leaned against the doorway with that all-knowing smirk that she constantly possessed. She was nice enough most of the time, though there was something about her that left Rory feeling uneasy on occasion, like she could open her mouth and swallow him whole. 

“What can we do for you, Mr. Williams?” 

There was another set of pounding footsteps, and then there was Amy, wearing a blue sundress and her hair in a ponytail. She had grown so tall over the course of the summer and now towered over Rory by quite a bit, but this was not something he minded. She gave him a lovely smile as she joined Mel by the doorframe.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I didn't get accepted to the school!” he said, possibly the most joyous declaration of rejection ever made. “Today was the last day they sent out letters and I did not get one, so I am going to stay in Leadworth and go to school with you two. I don't have to leave.” 

Rory's mother had attempted to console her son, and he supposed, on some much lower level, he was a little sad that he would never be able to do magic like the rest of his family could. The greatest thing on his mind, though, was Amelia Pond. He would be able to stay in Leadworth with her and not go off to some dreary castle in Scotland with a bunch of strange children he didn't know, who would likely make him feel inferior. No, he could stay home and go to school with Amy and Mels. They could play on her swing and ride bikes down to the lake and stay up late on Fridays to watch the programmes her parents said they weren't allowed to, but did anyway. They could finish filming The Wild Adventures of the Raggedy Doctor with the Ponds' camcorder, which Amy already had completely storyboarded out and in which Rory had the starring role. And as his friends both cheered and practically knocked him over with hugs, he could not think of anything better.


End file.
